A Psychosomatic Itch
by thehecticglow
Summary: Pride might have dulled the burning of Emily's stake wound, but JJ saw that her emotional toll ran deep. Before they landed in Paris, JJ was determined to help Emily find pride in all of her pain. [Continuation of the 'Lauren' flashback scene in '200'. Spoilers for both episodes.]


"...Sounds like it's time for you to be the blackbird and flip the script."

JJ nodded distractedly, her head spinning as she processed the turn in their conversation. _Someone on the inside..._ She wasn't sure whether she felt better or worse after having gained that insight, but at least now she had a direction to pursue.

"That... helps, I think. Thanks, Em," she said, focusing back on her friend.

Emily shook her head. "All you, Jayje. Don't sell yourself short; you know what you're doing. I'd bet that you're more in control of this job than you think."

"Well, I learned from the best," JJ answered with a grin. "Thanks." She was repeating herself, but she couldn't overstate how grateful she was for Emily's vote of confidence. It loosened the knot of anxiety that settled in her chest when she thought about Nadia and her killer. Emily returned the smile, and though it was a small one JJ's heart warmed at the sight; it was something she hadn't seen enough of these past few weeks.

With that thought, the reason for their flight crept back to the forefront of JJ's mind, and she knew that she couldn't leave their earlier talk where it had ended. _Maybe it's a psychosomatic itch you're scratching? The brand left an emotional toll._ JJ had lightened the mood with her tattoo quip, and Emily had been quick to shift the focus away from herself, but they couldn't let themselves off the hook for that conversation quite so easily.

Emily glanced away and shifted in her seat, trying in vain to find a comfortable position for her still-healing body. Taking advantage of the pause, JJ steeled herself before speaking.

"So," she began, catching Emily's gaze, "How'd I do on my other amateur profile?"

Emily winced, fidgeting intently with her shawl as she considered her answer. "You're a natural," she eventually replied. Her smile had reappeared, but it was strained and did nothing to hide the discomfort written across her features. She maintained eye contact almost stubbornly, defiantly casual about her words, but she was blinking a bit too quickly to make it convincing.

JJ nodded and reached over, rubbing Emily's shoulder gently. She knew she had to tread lightly here; Emily had always needed to process things in her own time, and the last thing that JJ wanted to do was push her too far. Still, in a few short hours they'd be in Paris, and she would have to leave Emily alone to cope with the specter of the man who wanted her dead and the weight of a trauma that she had only just begun to face. The thought made her chest ache. They had talked in Bethesda, as often as JJ could manage without arousing suspicion, but it was clear that Emily was still struggling with her experience. And true to form, she was making things harder on herself with an overactive sense of misplaced guilt. JJ was determined to quiet some of the destructive voices in her friend's head while she still had the chance.

"Emily, that brand..." she began, pausing as Emily looked away at her words. JJ wasn't sure how to offer comfort without diminishing the very real emotional weight that the mark held for her friend. She could only push forward and hope that the words she chose were the right ones. "It doesn't make you his. None of it does, and it can't, okay? Let the bastard have his possessive delusions; that's not what I see when I look at it."

As she spoke, Emily had gone unnaturally still, no sign of movement but the fingers tearing viciously into her thumbnail. Her gaze was locked on an invisible spot across the jet. Although she made no sign of acknowledgement, JJ knew that Emily was anxiously taking in every word. She pressed on.

"I see courage; integrity." Her mind flashed to those same sentiments etched into Emily's headstone; to frustrated, grief-fuelled moments with the team as they struggled for words powerful enough to memorialize someone so dear to them. JJ sighed. _Why suffer a pain you're proud of?_ The team, though distraught, though angry with the outcome, had come to look at Emily's actions with so much pride. Her job now was to help Emily do the same. "You did the right thing for Declan all those years ago, standing up to Doyle and all of Interpol for that little boy." Sensing that the topic was a sensitive one for her friend, JJ backed off for a moment. "I mean, Em: obvious heroism aside, I think we can agree that anyone who pisses Ian Doyle off _that_ thoroughly has got to be doing something right." At that, Emily gave a humourless laugh, her breath quivering and piercing JJ's heart.

"And as much as you didn't deserve it, when he made you pay for that courage you held on against the worst he had to throw at you. You never broke. That's a mark of strength, sweetie. You _won_, as hard as it is to see it that way right now."

JJ watched Emily closely as the tears that were pooling in her eyes spilled over; Emily hurriedly swiped them from her cheeks with a frustrated shake of her head. JJ clasped her hand lightly, giving the ravaged nails a reprieve and finally drawing Emily's attention back to her. JJ held eye contact and poured as much love into her gaze as she could. "I know he's taken a lot from you, and I'm so sorry that I can't fix that, but you didn't give him what he wanted. _That's_ your ultimate victory over him. You deserve to be just as proud of the brand as you are of that scar," JJ finished, gesturing toward Emily's abdomen.

Her hand tightened reflexively around Emily's when a choked sob escaped her friend's throat. The tears were hard for JJ to see, but she hoped that they were ultimately a good thing; a sign that Emily was taking the message to heart. JJ gave her space to process, both physically and through her silence, but maintained what she hoped was reassuring contact by running her thumb in languid circles across Emily's palm. She focused her worry into the motion, keeping her touch steady and deliberate. Once she'd regained her composure, Emily spoke.

"Every time I look at the brand, or remember it's there, I can feel him lurking over my shoulder. It feels just like it did when he first showed up in DC, taunting me and threatening the people I love. Like I can't escape his game of cat and mouse."

JJ nodded sadly. "I'm sorry, Em."

Emily responded with a final squeeze to JJ's hand before letting go and running anxious fingers through her hair. "It's just another reminder of how much of myself I've lost to Ian Doyle," she said, lips curling on his name. "I'm not always sure I like what's left."

"What do you mean?" JJ asked. That statement had her concerned.

Emily gave a reluctant sigh. "I had to compromise a lot when I went undercover. You do a lot of bad things to gain the trust of bad people," she paused with a shaky smile, "and you have to do other things you'd rather not to stay close to them." Seeing the shame in Emily's eyes, JJ couldn't help but interject. "Hey, none of that is your—," but Emily was quick to interrupt her, looking determinedly away from JJ as she continued.

"...but I did them, and every time it felt like I was slipping further and further from myself. I could at least tell myself that it was the mission; our objective was good so it was the right thing to do. I could tell myself that it wasn't me at all, it was Lauren Reynolds. But by the time I got out it was hard for me to find the lines that I wouldn't cross; to remember who I was. Or wanted to be." Emily chanced a nervous glance at JJ, who nodded her understanding. "I was so sure I'd left that part of me in the past, but then Doyle had me and suddenly I was compromising myself again. There was a moment—he had Rossi and Seaver in a gun sight, and I had to... I couldn't let..." Emily shook her head, trailing off and shrinking into herself. Her watery eyes begged JJ to understand.

_Oh,_ JJ realized, heart clenching. She recalled the moment in Boston when Rossi and Seaver had come down from the roof, covered in Fahey's blood and despairing the loss of their only lead. "You kept them safe," she consoled.

"Safe from danger I put them in," Emily scoffed. "The team was only on Doyle's radar because of me. As if that weren't bad enough, let's not forget the way I betrayed their trust and left them to grieve over my empty coffin. And I hate that I'm putting the consequences of that lie on your shoulders. All of you deserve better."

JJ sighed. She didn't know how to assuage Emily's guilt, not when she was so determined to blame herself. Instead, she shifted closer and slid her arm across Emily's shoulder, offering what comfort she could. She was relieved when Emily obliged, curling into JJ's side and settling into her embrace.

"Honey, I wish you could see yourself though our eyes, because we're all so proud of you. I promise you that no one feels betrayed." _At least not by you,_ JJ added silently, idly worrying that the team might not respond so kindly to her own role in this when it all came to light. Still, it was a price that she would happily pay for Emily's sake. "They understand everything you did. They just wish that it had ended with you alive and safe, and that's what we're doing right now. Keeping you safe."

"Yeah," Emily acknowledged, sounding unconvinced.

"I need you to hear what I'm saying, Emily." JJ waited until she felt Emily's reluctant nod against her shoulder. "They're grieving because you're important to them, and losing you has been so hard. But all they want is for you to be okay. We'll bring you home, and all the grief will have been worth it. Please try to forgive yourself and remember that we love you."

Emily's silence filled the jet, melancholy and thick, but she wound her arm around JJ's in response. Her fingers clutched desperately at JJ's wrist. JJ felt her throat tighten at the gesture. It was rare for Emily to seek out physical comfort like this, and JJ was so thankful that, at least for the moment, she was able to offer it. When Emily eventually spoke, her words were subdued. "I wish that I could have said goodbye."

"I think you did, in your own way," JJ soothed. "They've been talking about you a lot. Remembering." Her eyes burned as she recalled those conversations, where she'd faced the full weight of her friends' anguish; felt the guilt of withholding the information that would answer their prayers. She shook her head slightly and continued.

"They like to talk about these moments that they had with you, right before you left. Reid told me how you reached out to him, like you always have. How loved that made him feel. Penelope's remembering how much you made her smile..." At that, Emily's emotions bubbled over in a breathless, tearful laugh. JJ tightened her embrace, adding, "They worry that they could have done something more to help, but mostly they talk about feeling so connected to you. Those moments mean the world to them."

"God, JJ, they mean the world to me too," Emily replied, her voice choked. "All of them tried to help me, be there, and I pushed them away. I was just terrified of what would happen if they got involved. I need them to know how grateful I am, and that I'm sorry. That I trust them," she sighed. "They need to know that."

"They know, Em. I promise." Emily's earnest nod spoke of trust despite her doubts, and JJ was humbled to have earned it. "And until you get back, I'll be there finding ways to remind them, all right? They'll be okay."

"Okay," Emily repeated, her eyes sad but her tone more hopeful. She sniffed and sat up gingerly, a hand braced against her wounded side as she moved. "What about you? This job; your informant... Will you be okay?"

"I'm being careful," JJ answered, knowing that that was the most she could guarantee but wanting above all to avoid worrying Emily further.

"Good," Emily replied. "Look, Jayje, I know it's all classified and you must be working way above our clearance levels, but please find a way to ask someone for help if you need it. Do whatever it takes to keep yourself safe and your head above water," she urged, eyes full of concern. "You want my advice?"

"Yeah," JJ answered. "Always."

Emily flashed a self-deprecating grin. "Stay as far away from my example as you can. Use me as a lesson in how _not_ to cope and you should be fine."

"I'll keep that in mind," JJ chuckled.

"Have faith in your abilities and use your gut, JJ," Emily added with a gentle smile. "Just try not to let yourself struggle with everything alone. It's better to trust people."

JJ returned the smile, overwhelmed with affection for her friend. She reached out to clasp Emily's shoulder. "I love you, you know?"

Emily reached up and squeezed her hand in return. "Yeah. You too."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, both women wrapped up in their own thoughts. JJ was hopeful that she had gotten through to her friend, but even so, she was surprised when Emily's wistful smile turned into a full-blown smirk.

"What?" JJ asked, a bit bewildered.

"You want me to get a boob tattoo?" Emily asked, a playful quirk in her eyebrows. Her fingers hovered uncomfortably, unconsciously, over the brand, which was clearly still a fraught symbol, but as she watched JJ blush Emily could barely contain her amusement.

"Sure," JJ laughed, delighted by the teasing glint in Emily's eyes. "You know, a transformative one."

"Mmm, of course," Emily acknowledged, her smile more melancholy but still genuine. "You know Derek would never let me live that down. I might need you to back me up by getting one yourself, Jareau."

_Good,_ thought JJ. _Keep thinking about your future back home._ Aloud, she teased back, "Anything for you. You go first and I'll follow your lead." She paused, reconsidering, "But if you think _I'm_ getting the phoenix tattoo, you're crazy."

JJ was rewarded when Emily's easy laughter filled the cabin, the sound affirming her earlier reassurances. Hard as this was, they'd be okay.


End file.
